


Filling the void

by RenSual



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Internal Conflict, Internal Monologue, Protective Siblings, Self-Discovery, Spoilers, can someone tellme how to unlock the ending where everythng is fine and they're all happy, please, the void child being not so empty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:55:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24987172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenSual/pseuds/RenSual
Summary: When they heard the scream, they recognized their sibling's silent voice. They recognized it, even though they didn't know they had a sibling.10 things the Knight discovers on their journey. And how every single one fills the void in them.But the void, when filled, doesn't disappear.It just becomes thicker.
Relationships: The Hollow Knight | Pure Vessel & The Knight
Comments: 10
Kudos: 63





	1. What is a memory

**Author's Note:**

> So.
> 
> Just finished hollow knight.
> 
> I wrote this to cope with everything, the characters, their interactions, the ENDINGS.
> 
> It's my personal headcanon on the game. It will mainly be centered on the Knight, and how I imagine them evolving in Hallownest.
> 
> Each chapter will have the name of the thing Little Ghost discovers.

When they heard the scream, they recognized their sibling's silent voice. They recognized it, even though they didn't know they had a sibling.

They didn't know any sibling.

They know things.

They know themselves to be small. They know how other creatures see it as a sign of weakness, only to recoil in surprise when the nail pierces their shell.  
They know the silk nature of water when it pours from above. The aggressive whiteness of the sun when midday comes.  
They know the toxic aroma of certain plants, the yellow thorns of flowers and bushes.  
They know how warm intestines are where a beast is cut open, they know the coldness of stones, where they lay to rest a little.

They know the blue scent of snow, the cutting texture of the wind when they stand at the top of a tree, or high on a secluded mountain.

They know the constant vigilance of being awake, the velvet nothingness of sleep.

But they didn't know they knew their siblings.

They had to go back to them.

Back.

Back ?

Did they come from somewhere ?

They never imagined origins.  
Once, in the hollow trunk of a dead weeping willow, they saw a mother and her newborn child. The little creature, still hairless and wailing, was protectively tucked between the mother's paws. She was a great beast, fat and exhausted. She looked at them, fangs baring, ready to lift her huge body if she saw anything else in them than quiet passivity.  
Their own body was so small, too. Did someone curl around it in an attempt to warm it up?  
Did someone look at it with fierce protectiveness?

Back. They had to go back.

The sibling was calling them.

They reached Hallownest, where back was.  
They knew that. It was a knowledge they always had, but it was also a knowledge they just acquired.  
It was the first time it happened to them, to discover something you already knew.  
As soon as they saw the lights of the city, blurred by a vesperal mist, they knew they arrived. 

Dirtmouth, the city, was empty. The villager's absence highlighted the melancholy of the houses, all made in the same deep-blue stone. Round, like eggs full of ghosts. The darkness of the sky made the shadows almost look like solid objects. The lamps shyly tried to fight the surrounding darkness. It wasn't a success.  
Only one pale creature, next to an iron bench, was muttering something to himself.  
They knew this foreign place, since forever and just now.

The Knight learned this knowledge, both new and ancient, both discovered and rediscovered. 

Memories.

They had to remember more.  
More memories were in this place.  
If the sibling was there, maybe they could meet the parents.

After all, the sibling, in the prison in the temple, cried for their "Father".


	2. To be talked to

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time The Knight listens to someone talking to them.  
> Elderbug and his old, slightly useless, immensely comforting presence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter!  
> Thanks for reading :)  
> I hope you'll enjoy !

The Knight passed in front of the only bug in Dirtmouth without paying them any attention. As soon as they understood he represented no threat, with his frail, aging body, as easy to break as a dry branch, they dashed past him without casting him another look. His eyes widened as he saw them pass, but he didn't move. His hunched shoulders even relaxed a little.  
They felt his eyes on them as they continued their way towards the well. 

The well.  
An old circle made of rock, dark like a blind eye, seemingly bottomless.  
They knew the sibling was down there.

When they were about to jump , the old bug made a sound.  
It was directed towards them.

But this wasn't anything like a shriek of fear. It wasn't the loud roar of intimidation.  
It was a call.  
He was calling for them.

They heard creatures call for each other, often when darkness fell upon the empty lands they travelled.  
They heard the loud yells, voices searching for an answer, sometimes in vain. The high pitched, worried voice of parents, the begging yelp of children, the langourous sounds of lovers. Not using voice as a means to scare, to threaten. But as a tool for reunion.

The Knight heard them, sometimes making a symphony louder than the creak of old leaves and the howls of the wind. He heard them call for each other. He heard them seek a presence.

Nobody ever called for them.

The old bug did.

The Knight approached him with cautious steps.

Then the bug talked to them.

It was the first time it ever happened. Even in his nebulous newfound memories, nobody ever talked to them.  
It was always warning growls, helpless cries. Nothing like the calm, slightly hoarse tone of the old bug. Not attacking. Not feeling attacked.

The bug presented himself as Elderbug. He was the only bug left in the small town. The others went down the well. It seemed to promise things, golden things, better things. Things that made people jump in the dark pit, without being scared of the shades and the depths that lurked down there. Elderbug was scared, that's why he stayed as more and more people jumped. He could only imagine them beneath the ground he walked on, running after a dream too idealistic to be true. He saw his friends disappear and stayed to preserve their memory. He stayed, surrounded by an absence thicker and thicker, until he was the only one renaming, the one remembering.

He talked and talked, and when he was done the Knight left and jumped down, like Elderbug's long lost friends, like Elderbug's village.

But as they walked through the Forgotten Crossroads, between pieces of broken statues and sprouts of white grass, Elderbug's voice, the calmness of it, how he didn't talk to attack The Knight nor plead them to spare his life, remained.

And then, each time the Knight came back, Elderbug talked to them.

He just stood next to the bench and, while the Knight's feet dangled off the ground, made small talk.

He talked about anything: what he heard, what he saw, the new villagers that came back and the small gossip their presence permitted. The more they came back, the happier he looked.

He knew a lot about the bugs of the town. Maybe the were his friends, or maybe he watched them at a distance, collecting informations like geos.  
He gave them away with barely convicted glee. He clearly kept the informations very close to his heart, his own little treasure. Nonerheless, he shared it with the Knight with great generosity.

The Knight often came back there, and each time they sat down on the bench, the iron slowly warming with their body heat, and listened. 

Sometimes, when they were stuck, when the strange, dying labyrinth of Hallownest only offered dead ends, the Elderbug, either by coincidence or by a kind of intuitive smartness, offered them, with quick, vague sentences, a solution.  
A hidden path.  
An overlooked door.  
An ignored power.

The Knight listened and then jumped again. The informations were always right. The labyrinth made sense again.

But more often than not, the Knight would come back to Dirtmouth and the bug who talked to them without reason. They weren't stuck, nor needed to buy anything for the few merchants that slowly made their way back in the village.  
But they came back anyway, sat on the bench, and listened to the old creature.

They listened as he talked about things that were sometimes barely informations.

They tried to talk too, but it was as silent as their sibling's scream. They were condemned to listen.

And once, they came back from Kingdom's Edge. Their back still burned from the mark of the King. It felt strange, denser than a scar, yet lighter than a crown. It felt like carrying the ghosts of an entire kingdom. Heavy and weightless.  
Heavy and weightless.  
They sat down on the iron bench, feet dangling off the floor, and they rested as the entire kingdom's sorrow slept on their small shoulders. 

This time, Elderbug said nothing. Instead, he sat next to them on the iron bench.  
It made a creak.  
They remarked how much warmer his body was comparing to theirs, but also how thin his bones were. He really was frail. So easily defeatable. The Knight couldn't understand how they thought it would be a good thing, once.

He stared ahead, at the empty houses in front, resting there, as useless as corpses.  
The Knight saw his feet touch the ground, even when he was sitting.  
They wondered what it was like.

Edelburg talked.  
"Hello, traveller. I must say I am pleased to see you again. You come back to this town quite often, don't you. Although I don't blame you, this town is certainly safer than the fallen kingdom's ruins."

He stoped for a second, tilting his head towards the Knight.

"I must admit I really enjoy talking to you. I realise you don't talk much but-"

Elderbug cut himself off with a dry little laugh. "I'm talking enough for both, am I not?"

He straightened his posture and cleared his throat.  
"Regardless, I'm very pleased that a young traveller like you would find time to listen to an old bug like me."

A minute of quiet, contemplative silence. They were both looking ahead.

"Really, it's almost strange to see this iron bench without you sitting on it, quietly passing time. As if, when you aren't here, it isn't complete...."

A dry laugh again.  
"I'm rambling, aren't I."

"What I mean to say is: anytime come back, I'll be here to keep you company, little traveller. As long as my old days allow it."

And just like that, the weight of the mark dissipated a little bit.  
Even though it was just the words of a frail bug in a dying kingdom, it felt like The Knight could carry it better.

The Knight said thank you, but they couldn't talk.  
It stayed stuck in their throat.

.

**Author's Note:**

> The hollow knight.  
> What an ironic name, for a creature so full. Full of Hallownest's plague. Full of responsibilities.
> 
> Full of sorrow.


End file.
